


Blood, Sweat, and Tears - Reality

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [56]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Reality Half of the Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:41:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5816347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These interludes are meant to be read in conjunction with the fantasy half of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Hidden Treasures and Interlude 1 - Hide and Seek

Prologue - Hidden Treasures

 

“Here you are. Oh. Look at you.” 

Reid blushed brightly and tucked his head to his chest as Bubbles dotted a kiss on the top of his head. She brushed his short curls with her hand, and removed the sawdust from his hair. He had squares of sandpaper and a small paintbrush tucked into his breast pocket, and woodstain drops all over his clothes.

“What a busy young man you have been!” Bubbles exclaimed. 

“It took a while to get to the case sanded and stained, but the results are quite nice,” Reid burbled. “We will of course have to let the shelves dry before we can set it into the door again. Another coat of varnish. Another touch of wood glue to conceal the nail holes. By tomorrow evening, we should be able to come back and put all your books in place again.” 

“I’ll keep the kitties off the shelves this time,” she promised. 

“Malcolm’s toes are not going to taste very good for a couple days,” Reid sighed.

“You did a fabulous job. Who knew you had a hidden talent for carpentry?”

“I Googled it,” Reid admitted.

“The bookcase is beautiful,” she answered, tapping him on the shoulder. 

“Bubbles, I’m so sorry for all the trouble I caused you,” Reid whispered, head bowed again.

“Nonsense. Stop beating yourself up,” Bubbles whispered back. She sat down in one of the winged chairs on the antique rug. “Spencer, how many times do I have to tell you? You did the right thing. I’m so very proud of you.”

“Thanks for removing the restraining order.” 

“You’re welcome. My daughter forgets sometimes who the adult is in our relationship.” 

“I’m so sorry about your bookstore and your home. I never meant for this to happen,” Reid shook his head, ashamed. 

“Spencer, between you and that busy little crew you brought with you, everything is back in shape. I’ll be able to reopen in another week. All the windows and doors have been repaired. All the bullet holes. That horrible smoky smell is gone. That clever boy of yours, Miles? He installed a new security system for me, showed me how easy it is to work. Your partner even managed to make himself useful too.” 

“Where did Aaron go?” Reid wondered, glancing towards the open door and the forms walking back and forth. The floor boards squeaked upstairs, and the gallop of a cat hurrying down the steps was heard. 

“He’s planting a tree in the courtyard for me. I’m not supposed to notice, I take it? A pink dogwood. It will fit in nicely. Spencer, I promise you, given the choice, I would do it all again. You saved Ed’s life. He would never have walked out the door free and breathing, not with that many feds waving that many guns, and certainly not with Mr. Wingtips out there running the takedown.”

“Mr. Wingtips,” Reid snickered softly. 

“You know how I feel about men who wear wingtips,” Bubbles sighed. “This, all this, it is a temporary bump in the road, like a flat tire you have to stop and fix. I’m going to be just fine. But Ed, he’s going to remember the kindness that you’ve shown him, and you mark my words, you are going to see a changed man.”

“I do hope so,” Reid murmured, rubbing his fingertips over his green and yellow bruises. 

“You want a break from the sanding and staining? I’d like to bring a few trade paperbacks into this room. They’re from an estate sale. A science-fiction and fantasy buff by the looks of it. Would you catalogue the boxes for me?” Bubbles asked hopefully. 

“I’d be happy to,” Reid beamed, holding out both arms for the box she ported over from the open door. Eight of the ten fingers he was holding up had a Band-Aid, a bump, a nick, a ding, or a cut on them. Bubbles handed Reid the box, and shook her head at him. “Alphabetically?” he asked. 

“That would be just fine, Dr. Precious,” Bubbles answered. She patted Reid on the shoulder, but he didn’t notice. He was already diving into the box of books, eyes alight with the flames of curiosity. 

 

*********************

 

Interlude 1 - Hide and Seek

 

“Jack? Jack!” 

Hotch’s voice echoed throughout the house, which was amazing considering it was crowded with noise and people. 

“What?!” Jack yelled back from the upstairs landing. 

“Have you seen Papa anywhere?” 

“Um….” 

Hotch zeroed in on the hesitation in the boy’s voice, and then on the shifty way his eyes drifted towards the green guest room and back again.

“Nope,” Jack denied. 

Hotch gave him a stern stare, and began to climb the stairs. Jack pulled the door to the guest room shut, and stood in front of it. 

“Is he in there?” Hotch asked as he reached the top of the stairs. 

“Nope,” Jack denied again. 

Hotch sighed impatiently, “Go downstairs, and finish your homework.”

“Hotch!?” Rossi called from the table. “Hotch, are we ready yet?” 

“In a minute!” Hotch called back. He turned the knob and entered the green guest bedroom. As he entered, he noticed that the closet door was slightly open. He smiled and walked towards it. As he approached, the door slid shut. It had been open long enough for him to glimpse his quarry though—the hanging suits and trousers and shirts had been pushed into the far side of the closet, and in the open space left, Reid had been curled up with a stack of paperback books and a flashlight. 

Hotch knocked on the closet door. 

“Go away,” Reid growled. 

“Reid, I understand why you’re mad at me.”

“Go. Away,” Reid repeated more slowly. 

“I know you’re angry about the ankle monitor.”

“I can’t hear you. La la la la la la….” 

“But you can’t sit in there and pout day in, day out. We have jobs to do. Dr. Lind took you off Ed Trovinger’s case, and off Patricia and Lisa Trovinger’s case too, but you still have a job to do.” 

“I’m done. The stacks are on your desk in the study. Go away. I want some peace and quiet. Respect my boundaries.” 

Hotch put a finger in the door handle, and slid the closet open. He sat cross-legged on the floor, adjusted his trousers a little, and heaved up a foreboding growl.

“Spencer, you’re acting like a child,” Aaron said deeply. 

“Aaron, you’re treating me like a child,” Reid responded, clicking the flashlight off and on repeatedly in Hotch’s face. 

“I am not treating you like a child.” 

“No, actually, you’re treating me like a criminal. You illegally attached a monitoring device to my leg, and you are tracking my every movement. I can’t express to you how very deeply troubling I find your behavior.”

“My behavior? Okay, we’re not going to fight again, not in front of the others, and not in front of Jack,” Hotch ground out the words. “Why are you in here reading when you’ve got a job to do?” 

“My task is completed. As I said, the stacks are sorted on your desk. Go see for yourself,” Reid grumbled, opening his book again, spreading his fingers wide to hold the pages of the paperback apart. 

“There were at least a hundred files to go through. You can’t possibly be done,” Hotch scoffed. 

“The first stack is cases that have been closed since the backlog began to accumulate, approximately a year ago. The second stack is cases that we should treat as priorities. The third stack is cases that we should consult on, but I felt there was no need to investigate in person. The primary investigators are on the right track, but the requests for intervention were made by supervising officers who don’t trust their subordinates enough to let them make their own decisions. How well I can relate. The fourth stack is cases that we need more information on in order to be able to determine if we can or should intervene. I have responded to each local jurisdiction, contacted the original investigating officer or detective, and requested additional information. The fifth and final stack is cases that I solved this morning. I typed my conclusions, and sent them back to the original investigating officers and detectives, and left it up to them to make the appropriate arrests on their own. I nudged them in the right direction, and surely they will follow. Is there anything else you need from me? No? Good. I can get back to my books then.”

“I should have made you case coordinator years ago,” Hotch tested out a lopsided grin. Reid glanced up at the compliment. Their eyes met, and a tiny bit of human warmth worked its way into Spencer’s face. Aaron reached out and teased the edges of Reid’s long, skinny toes. Spencer was annoyed at being touched, but he endured the gentle rubbing. 

“You never considered it until Dr. Lind suggested it, and so, the credit should go to her,” Reid countered. Hotch’s fingers ran around and under Spencer’s foot, bumping the Velcro band which held his monitor in place. 

“A lot of things I should have done years ago,” Aaron whispered, thumb moving up and down the sole of Reid’s foot. Spencer shivered and stretched out his leg. “Reid, even if you’re done with sorting the case files, you should be monitoring the phone and the computer to wait for responses. Someone might give a quick reply. We might need to move in a hurry. The Trovinger case will be set on the back burner if something more urgent arises. There are other things you can do too. You don’t need to sit in here and pout.”

“Not pouting,” Reid defended before giving a soft groan of pleasure.

“My hairy ass,” Aaron chuckled. He let go of Reid’s foot, leaned forward into the semi-darkness, and rubbed noses with his husband. “Get yourself back to your desk, in the study. We have another three hours on the clock.”

“Not pouting,” Reid insisted. 

Hotch took the book out of Reid’s hands, dropped it gently to the floor, and got up on all fours in order to plant a long, slow kiss on Spencer. No hands, no arms, no other contact. Just the touch and taste of plush, soft lips, tongues teasing slowly together for the longest time. Reid was warming to the attention. Hotch drew back eventually. Reid’s eyes were glittering hungrily. His knees folded out to the side in a manner that was undeniably suggestive and inviting. He gave Hotch a slow, thin smile, and licked his lips, waiting. 

“Maybe later. But only if you’re good. Back to work,” Hotch repeated. Reid groaned in disappointment, and nudged Hotch in the chest with one long foot.


	2. Gimme All Your Lovin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read after Part Two

Interlude 2 - Gimme All Your Lovin'

 

The intrusion was quiet at first, the tap tap tap of a stick against a drumhead and a cymbal. Spencer continued reading, though his hackles were rising. Then the door to the guest room was pushed open by an unseen hand. An electrical guitar slammed Reid in the head, figuratively speaking. The cheesiest of 80’s rock songs was blaring through the hallway from the CD player which had been strategically placed in front of the door. 

Reid put down his book with a huff, glanced around for something to throw at the figure that bounced into view. Unfortunately, he had left his shoes in the other room. Reid opened his mouth and was about to shout obscenities. This was the first quiet weekend day in which they had had their house all to themselves. Jack was running around outside in the yard, chasing Snippet and throwing sticks with him. Reid had hoped for a little privacy in which to read, because the story was just getting good, and he was loathe to put this dream world down. 

When he got a good look at the figure in the hallway, Reid’s jaw dropped. True enough, few sights on Earth could compare with SSA Aaron Hotchner in a dark blue suit with a red tie. Fewer sights still compared to SSA Aaron Hotchner, peeling seductively out of his suit jacket and dress shirt, those dark eyes burning back over one shoulder as he twitched his fine ass back and forth to get his husband’s attention. 

Reid was rightfully stunned. Hotch grinned devilishly, knowing he had a captive audience. He pulled on a pair of dark sunglasses, vanishing out of frame for a moment. Reid sat up straighter, and peered transfixed, eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

When Hotch returned, he wasn’t wearing a dress shirt or a suit jacket. He was shaking a sleeve off the end of one wrist. The white shirt fluttered away. He peeled off his red tie and lobbed it gracefully at Spencer before disappearing again to the other side of the doorway.

Reid caught the tie and whistled, then pealed soft laughter, rocking back and forth as he covered his mouth. Hotch returned, this time undoing his trousers. Reid couldn’t watch and couldn’t turn away either. He could feel his face burning. 

“Okay, okay,” Spencer called out, getting to his feet and leaving his book on the floor. It was plainly obvious that this was Hotch’s way of apologizing for his recent, brutish behavior. Reid was willing to accept his apology. He pulled Aaron into a lingering kiss as he laced the red tie around Hotch’s throat. Aaron scooped Reid up, dropped him on the bed in the green room, and closed the door tightly. 

The CD player continued to boom cheesy 80’s music in the hallway.


	3. Bundt Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read after Part Three

Interlude 3 - Bundt Cake

 

“I know he’s adorable, Dr. Reid, but you cannot have my pupil. Give me back my padawan, right this minute.” 

“Shhh,” Spencer whispered, motioning a finger to his lips, and attempting to mollify Agent Lucille Blair. The windows were up, and their voices would surely carry outside, but Lucy was not going to be silenced. 

“Where is Agent Peterson, and what are you doing with him?” 

“He’s right over there,” Reid whispered. “Oh, duck!” he added, lifting the lid of the washer and peering over the edge, out the back windows of the house towards the garage and the barn. Agent Blair gave Reid a sideways frown, and glanced out the windows too. 

A tall, skinny red-haired agent in his mid-twenties was rustling around in the garage. The door was up. At first glance, it looked like car parts were strewn around at random. At second glance, it was evident the car parts had been laid out in a specific order. A pair of legs was sticking out from under the VW minivan up on four jacks. A greasy hand emerged. April Davies called out. 

“Peterson? I need a socket wrench.”

“Socket wrench!” the red-haired, freckle-faced boy exclaimed, pacing back and forth and back and forth at the work bench in a panic. “Which one is the socket wrench?” he stammered.

“There’s one wrench handle in the case, and there are thirty attachments which range in different sizes for different nuts.”

Peterson stopped in his tracks, picked up the correct case, and sat down directly next to the car. The entire van wobbled. 

“Jesus Christ, Pete! Watch the jacks!” April cautioned. Peterson scooted a couple inches to the side.

“Yes, ma’am! Sorry.”

“Don’t call me ma’am. I’m gonna need the WD-40 for this one.”

“WD-40? Right. That’s the blue can with the stick in it. I put that over there somewhere.”

Peterson was on his feet, searching again. He brought back the can, and sat on the floor again.

“So this is what you’re up to?” Agent Blair whispered to Reid back in the house. A slow smile was wreathing his features. 

“Aren’t they adorable?” Spencer murmured. 

“You’re using my padawan to distract your stalker?” 

“She is not a stalker,” Reid frowned. 

“Agent Davies has been at your house every day for the three weeks. I’d say that makes her a stalker.” 

“You have all been at my house for the last three weeks. Until the renovations are complete in the BAU offices, we are doomed to haunt these walls.”

“Speaking of haunt….” 

“Don’t be alarmed. Becky won’t hurt you.”

“Shit! You really do have a ghost?”

“Don’t bother her, and she won’t bother you. As I was saying, Agent Davies is marooned here like the rest of us while she is helping SSA Schultz with the Trovinger case,” Reid defended.

“Davies makes Bundt cakes.” 

“I love Bundt cakes,” Reid exclaimed happily.

“Exactly my point, Dr. Reid. A woman does not make Bundt cake for just anyone. It takes time, effort, buckets of cake mix. Do I have to spell it out for you?” 

“Let me see. You’re trying to tell me that Agent Davies is desperately in love with me. She probably spends hours writing our names together. She wants to worm her way into my heart through my stomach. She arrives each morning with a new and irresistible Bundt cake as an expression of her affection for me. How can I be so blind to her obvious feelings for me? I hope you have surmised, Agent Blair, that you are not the first person to broach this topic with me?” Reid sulked. 

“I guess I’m not. Davies and her feelings are for you to figure out. But it is unconscionable that you would hold my pupil hostage as means to distract your unstable stalker, she who makes Bundt cakes because she loves you?” 

“If the lot of you weren’t so busy focusing on Agent Davies and her affections for me, you would have noticed who else likes Bundt cakes?” Reid chided. 

“Who?” 

“Peterson. He ate three pieces yesterday, and four pieces this morning. He followed Davies around, chocolate crumbs all over his person, comparing her cooking abilities to the greatest French chefs. She blushed. She smiled. She told him she liked his tie. Do you know what else I’ve learned about Agent Peterson?”

“I have no idea,” Lucy sighed. 

“He knows the layout of each of the twenty-five public libraries in the District of Columbia. He wrote his master’s thesis on the cultural impact of the Enoch Pratt Library System on the City of Baltimore. He likes cats. He plays the cello. He’s a frustrated novelist in search of a muse. Gosh darn it, Lucy Blair. Where have you been hiding Pete Peterson? He’s absolutely perfect for April!”

“Dr. Reid? Are you playing matchmaker?” Lucy frowned.

“No. I haven’t had to do a thing. They’ve been fast friends since you yourself introduced them three weeks ago.” 

“I sent them to pick up dinner at the Happy Cat Chinese Carry-Out, because your keeper wouldn’t let you drive there on your own. I didn’t exactly book them a room at the Willard.” 

“But look at them,” Reid sighed, smiling again. “It’s the sweetest thing in the world, isn’t it?” 

April emerged from under the car, and nosed around through the case of socket wrench extensions. Peterson put the can of WD-40 back on the work bench, and then insinuated himself under the car to have a look at what April was doing. Agent Davies retrieved the correct extension, and got back under the car next to Peterson. He inched closer to her and asked quiet questions. The vehicle muffled whatever he had said. April’s soft laugh carried on the spring breeze. She inched closer to Peterson’s side. She was calling out the names of the parts under the back of the vehicle, having to do with the suspension system. Peterson was hanging on her every word. 

“Oh God. It is love, isn’t it?” Blair whispered.

Reid squeaked softly with happiness, beaming brightly as he tilted his head and said, “It’s adorable.”


	4. The Key to the Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read after Part Four

Interlude 4 - The Key to the Mystery

 

“Take your time,” Agent Thomas muttered sarcastically as Reid made his way past the gauntlet of other FBI agents who were swarming around the U-Haul storage facility in Triangle, Virginia. Traffic slowed down as it trawled by on the highway a few feet away. People were rubber-necking to see what the police and federal agents were all excited about. Every one of the agents that Reid passed, some familiar faces, some not, were giving him shocked and curious glances. 

“Agent Thomas?” Reid replied. “You’ve been dicking around for two months, when all it took was a computer search under my name to find the right storage facility, less than ten minutes from my house? I assume the key fit the padlock on the door?” 

“Shut your piehole, and take a look at our three contestants. We’d like a positive identification before we move them.” 

Reid stopped at the only opened door, and levelled himself on his cane.

“Can I have more light, please?” he called out hoarsely. SSA Frank Schultz appeared at Reid’s shoulder, and held up a flashlight. Another agent clicked on a tri-stand of heavy wattage bulbs, and damned near burned away Reid’s retinas. He was seeing white spots even as the ultra-bright lights were directed into the storage unit. 

“Well, Dr. Reid?” Schultz asked. Agent Thomas hovered on Reid’s other side, tucking away his own flashlight. 

Reid took a deep breath, and expelled it slowly, letting his eyes examine the three corpses laid out on the floor. At first glance, it was rather like a very weird camping trip. Each man was burrowed into a sleeping bag, zipped inside, faces visible, cocooned in creature comfort. If would have been easy to believe they were still asleep, but for the pallor and the advanced state of decomposition of the three corpses. 

“The one on the left is Dr. Crutchfield, my physical therapist who disappeared,” Reid began. Schultz nodding knowingly. “The one on the middle in Mr. Northland.”

“Yup,” Agent Thomas agreed. “Those two, we had a rough idea about. We’re really a bit more befuddled about the lad on the end.” 

Reid studied the young man’s features, and gazed down at the ground, down at his own shoes. He knew instantly who this must be. His immediate first reaction was that he needed to contact April Davies, right this second. He needed to find her, and get her somewhere safe, because this was not something she needed to hear from anyone else. He should be the one to tell her. 

“So who is our mystery man, Dr. Reid?” SSA Schultz asked. “Is that ligature mark around his neck? Why shoot a man in the chest, and choke him to death?” 

“Do you know who that is, yes or no?” Thomas demanded. 

“He’s Todd Bennett,” Reid muttered, shaking his head. 

“Who?” Thomas and Schultz asked as one.

“Todd Bennett,” Dr. Lind remarked, her shoes echoing up the corridor as she made her way to the opened storage unit, and her agents gathered around the entrance. “I was afraid we were going to find him like this.” 

“Who the hell is Todd Bennett?” Thomas rumbled. 

“Dr. Reid, we’re going to need your help even more now,” Dr. Lind said. 

“I thought he was off the case!” Thomas howled. 

“I don’t understand how I can help you,” Reid responded. 

“Contestant number one has been dead for several months. Contestant number two has been dead for some time too. What about contestant number three?” Schultz wondered. 

“He’s been dead at least three months by the looks of him,” Dr. Lind commented. “Dr. Reid, if you’ve heard anything, anything at all, now would be the time to tell me.” 

“I’ve heard nothing from Ed Trovinger,” Reid sighed, hanging his head. “There’s been no trace of him for two months. You already know that though. You’re monitoring my emails. You’re going through my regular mail. You’re plotting my location night and day with this tracker.”

“Promise me you haven’t seen him, or heard from him?” Schultz demanded.

“Not since the standoff at the bookstore, no,” Reid confirmed. 

“Dr. Reid, we need to talk,” Dr. Lind said, holding out an arm. Reid turned around from the doorway, and obediently followed his boss’s boss as she led him out of the storage facility and into the parking lot. Cars were slowing down again, except for one in particular that Reid noticed out of the corner of his eye. 

A black SUV raced off the highway at a high rate of speed which kicked up gravel in the driveway. It made a sharp right turn, and careened to a stop next to the phalanx of similar law enforcement vehicles. Hotch barely bothered to throw it into park before he was out of his seatbelt, out the door, and storming over to Dr. Lind and Dr. Reid.

“How dare you!?” Hotch howled, his voice echoing like a sonic boom. 

“Calm down, Agent Hotchner,” Dr. Lind advised. 

“Don’t you tell me to calm down? You drag Dr. Reid out of our home, in front of our son, with no explanation? You don’t even give him time for a phone call?”

“Hotch, it’s all right,” Reid whispered, putting a hand on Aaron’s arm. 

“We needed him to ID our victims as quickly as possible,” Dr. Lind explained as the coroner rolled his gurney down the hallway towards the open unit. “He’s not in any trouble.” 

“You don’t talk to him without me being present. Ever,” Hotch growled. 

“Agent Hotchner,” Dr. Lind blanched at his tone. 

“I am his attorney, and he has a right to have me present whenever he’s being questioned,” Aaron replied. 

“Dr. Reid isn’t being charged with anything. He’s not under arrest,” Dr. Lind insisted.

“Don’t lie to me. I know Agent Thomas is trying to build a case against Reid.”

“Look, if he is building a case, he’s doing so without my approval, and I will put a stop to it.”

“You can tell him that if he ever pulls a stunt like this again, I’ll have his ass up in front of a disciplinary review board before he can take a deep breath.”

“Calm down, Agent Hotchner,” Dr. Lind soothed. 

Reid got right in Hotch’s face, giving him a wide-eyed, silent stare. Hotch ran both hands back through his short, dark hair, and paused for a deep breath. When he looked back up, sheepish and red, Spencer gave him a tiny, tight-lipped smile before facing Dr. Lind again. 

“Agent Hotchner, I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding. I’ll talk to Agent Thomas. Let’s all take a few minutes and cool off, shall we?” Dr. Lind advised. 

“Why don’t you drive me to Agent Davies’s apartment?” Spencer murmured to Hotch, angling him towards the still-idling SUV.


	5. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read after Part Five

Interlude 5 - The Plan

 

Captain Spaulding had literally just picked up Snippy’s leash when there was a soft tapping at the front door. Spaulding’s excitable whippet bolted off the mangled couch cushion, and flew across the living room, dodging moving boxes as he went. Leash in hand, she followed Snippy to the front door. A familiar figure was visible behind the glass pane which dominated the portal. A faint smile graced Amy’s face as she opened the door. 

“Howdy, neighbor,” Dr. Reid smiled, handing her a covered cake carrier, and dodging Snippy’s attempts to leap up at him. 

“Have you been busy in the kitchen all day with this?” she asked, pulling the top off the coconut-covered, three-tiered towering dessert, dotted with bright red cherries and triangles of pineapple. The scent of rum nearly bowled her over. 

“How was your trip? How is the unpacking going?” Reid asked, glancing around at the boxes that dominated the room. 

“Meh,” Spaulding replied. “Snippy…….” She added tiredly as the whippet bounced around Reid’s ankles, pawing and barking at him. Spencer patted him on the head, and Snippy danced in circles. 

“How is he liking the new place?” Reid asked. 

“He’s mauling sofa cushions again, and he’s already peed on the upstairs carpet,” Spaulding murmured, giving her dog a chiding stare. 

“He’s feeling at home, is he?” Reid joked softly. 

“Yep.” 

“How do you like your neighbors?” Reid asked, motioning a thumb to the far wall.

“They’re a quiet bunch,” Spaulding mused. 

“You look tired. Long trip? How’s your mom?” 

“Mom. Yeah. She’s a trip, all right,” Spaulding confirmed. 

“I will go away and let you get some rest.” 

“Oh no, you don’t. You are not leaving me alone with a three-story, rum-soaked, piña colada cake,” Spaulding laughed ruefully, taking Reid by the arm and hauling him inside. “Where’s Tall, Dark, and Hairy tonight?”

“Work,” Reid pouted. 

“They kicked you out of your own house so they could talk shop?”

“Yes.” 

“Any news on the Trovinger case?” 

“They aren’t telling me, but I judge by the seriousness of their demeanor that the continued lack of sightings has them worried,” Reid replied. 

“I’m sure you overheard something before they kicked you out,” Spaulding murmured, heading into the kitchen to search through boxes for plates and forks.

“Rossi and Torg were able to find a person in Florida who was acquainted with Ed Trovinger when he lived there before. You don’t want to talk about this. Let’s talk about your trip home.” 

“Oh, no. I would so much rather talk about Ed, believe me,” Amy stressed.

“You do not enjoy visiting your mother, do you?” 

“Doc, there’s a reason I live on the East Coast instead of the Midwest.” 

“Well, I did manage a glance at the report that Torg was presenting to Hotch, because Hotch was nibbling on the cake ingredients while I was in the final assembly stage. He laid the report on the counter while ‘helping’ me with your cake.”

“What did they find out? Is Ed in Florida?” 

“No, but if he were, the witness readily admits she wouldn’t tell us.”

“That’s curious,” Spaulding murmured as she extracted two newspaper-wrapped plates and a small clear box of silverware.

“Emma Castile. Forty-seven. She used to work in the library at the community college where Ed was a student.” 

“And?” Spaulding asked, slicing off huge chunks of cake for both of them. “Mmmmm…” she purred, inhaling deeply. 

“Too much rum?” Reid mused as he took a bite. 

“No such thing as too much rum.”

“Do you and Captain Morgan sail together often?” Reid joked. 

“After the talk I had with Mom and General Scott?”

“That bad?” Reid worried.

“Let’s put it this way. It was all the usual talk about when I’m going to settle down and get married and have kids, when suddenly, Mom and the General get super serious, and tell me they need to talk to me. I was under the impression we had been talking for almost two hours at that point, but I was picking at dinner, and politely listening, because I was raised with manners, and…whatever. They’ve got something to tell me, and they want me to let them finish before I ask any questions.” 

“Oh no,” Reid whispered.

“So I’m preparing myself for….you know… the worst? One of them is sick. Or Tom has does something stupid. Nope. None of that. Now I’m fearing it. You know I am. The General has always taken an unabated interest in us kids, looking after us, helping my mom raise us, making sure we got a good education, making sure we had good careers, and stepping in where my father would have been.”

Reid inhaled, putting down his slice of cake. 

“You’re waiting for the Darth Vader moment?” he whispered. 

“I am!” Spaulding howled. “I just know it! The General is about to tell me that he’s really our father, not our dad. But then, they stop, catch their breath, and it’s all about ‘a time for change’ and ‘time to move on with our lives’.” 

“Is General Scott going to marry your mother?” 

“No. Worse,” Spaulding snorted.

“How much worse?” Reid could hardly speak. 

“My mom is moving to the East Coast. She’s going to sell the house where we were born and raised and grew up, where she lived with my dad, where he carried her across the threshold. She’s moving out here, to be closer to me and Tom.” 

“Well,” Reid stammered. “It’s a very big coast,” he soothed softly. 

“Not nearly big enough. But wait! There’s more!”

“More?” 

“She bringing my Aunt June with her.”

“Sorry,” Reid gave a rumpled wince before slowly smiling. 

“Please. I need distractions. Tell me more about why is Emma so loyal to Ed?” Spaulding pleaded, shoveling in cake bites at a rapid pace. 

“Oh, no reason. He saved her life, that’s all. As far as she’s concerned, we’ve got the wrong guy, because the Ed Trovinger she knows wouldn’t hurt a soul in the world.” 

“Ah. He saved her life how?” 

“He intervened when her stalker ex-husband tried to kill her. Ed beat the living daylights out of the ex-husband, saved Mrs. Castile from certain death.” 

“She thinks of Ed as a white knight, somewhat the same way Agent Davies used to think of him, before…. You know….” 

“You heard about Todd Bennett?” 

“Doc, they do show national news in Iowa,” Spaulding smiled faintly. “Three dead bodies in a storage locker makes the headlines. How is Agent Davies holding up? How did she take the news?” 

“She’s pretending nothing is wrong, that she’s not upset, that she’s happy Todd is dead, and she is well on her way to having a nervous breakdown,” Reid frowned unhappily. “She says she’s talking to her therapist about this, but I found out that she’s not seeing the FBI-appointed therapist any longer, so unless she’s seeing a different therapist, she’s not talking to anyone about this, except perhaps Agent Pete Peterson.”

“SSA Blair’s young Jedi pupil?” Amy smirked. 

“Yes. Hmm,” Reid murmured. “They’ve become good friends. Close friends. She’s even going to take him to Syracuse to meet her parents.” 

“That’s pretty serious,” Amy murmured back at him.

“Much more of this cake, and I’m not going to be able to walk back home,” Reid laughed as he finished every last crumb of coconut on his plate. 

“What’s the next step, as far as the search for Ed Trovinger?” Spaulding asked as she finished her slice of cake as well. 

“Not up to me,” Reid sighed. 

“But if it were?” Spaulding inquired.

“I think Schultz and Hotch are making a mistake, waiting around for Ed to make an appearance. We should be finding a way to lure him out of hiding. We know he gravitates towards people in jeopardy, people he can save, people he can rescue.”

“Yes. And?” 

“I don’t know,” Reid shrugged. “It sounds crazy, but one of the last things he said to me was that he wants to make amends for what he’s done. He’s a killer with a sense of morals, someone who thinks he will be forgiven if he helps other people. I’m wondering if he’s out there, rescuing people.”

“Rescuing them how? Boots, cape, red tights?” 

“I’m crazy. Don’t listen to me,” Reid sighed. 

“No. You’re not crazy. You’re on the right track, I think. He wants to rescue and help people in need, to make up for the wrong things he’s done. Where do avenging angels go to find someone to protect?” Spaulding asked. “Do they lurk around street corners and phone booths, waiting to hear a woman scream in the distance? ‘Here I come to save the day’!” she laughed softly again.

“What if he is hanging around a police station? Or a domestic violence shelter?”

“Hmm. Both of those are valid possibilities, but how in the world would you ever narrow the list to find out which one?” 

“Impossible,” Reid sighed. “Unless….” 

Spencer’s eyes were glimmering for a moment. Spaulding plucked another cherry off the side of the cake. 

“What?” she mumbled. 

“He used my name and one of my credit cards to rent the storage facility where we found Todd Bennett, Mr. Northland, and Dr. Crutchfield.” 

“Did he? Suppose he must have gotten the credit card number when he was in your house to leave the books?” 

“Yes, he must have.”

“Don’t suppose you left that card active, so you would know if he uses it again?” 

“Yes, I did.”

“Any activity?” 

“I’m not allowed to be an active part of the investigation,” Reid reminded her. “There has been no activity.” 

“I see wheels turning. You are concocting a plan.”

“We have Ed’s cell phone number.”

“We do?” 

“It was in the case file report with transcripts of his conversations with Dr. Ramirez.”

“We have Ed’s cell phone number. He has your credit card number. What does that give us?” 

“We have an inexhaustible supply of open cases where people might be in jeopardy. We also have the key to the post office box as well,” Reid reminded Spaulding.

“That’s right. Hotch made you case coordinator to keep you busy, didn’t he? You’re going to offer Ed cases where he can help rescue people?” 

“You wanna go for a drive?” Reid smiled devilishly. 

“You’re not supposed to go anywhere without telling Hotch.”

“I’ll tell him. Who wants a car ride?” Reid asked Snippy. The whippet stopped in his tracks, tilted his head, and barked happily. 

“I’ll grab my keys,” Spaulding replied. “Where’s your watch tonight?” 

“Frank’s lurking about somewhere,” Reid answered, covering the cake.


	6. Rough Trade

Interlude 6 - Rough Trade

 

“Oh….my…..God,” Hotch whispered in the darkness, struggling to calm his racing heart. He nuzzled a kiss to the ear that appeared next to his cheek, and ran a hand down Reid’s sweaty, trembling flank. 

“Mmmmm,” Spencer purred softly, happily. He lifted his little butt and hips, slowly releasing Hotch’s tender anatomy. “That was…..mmm….. yummy. Thank you. Gotta go. Bye.”

“Just a damned minute,” Hotch laughed, getting a good grip on Spencer’s waist and rolling him down to the covers. They bumped noses as Aaron sought out a kiss. “What’s your hurry?”

“Nothing,” Reid panted. Hotch fumbled for the lamp, shedding dim light on the bed. His eyes went down, and got wide. Hotch was blushing when he met Reid’s eyes. “Do you like them?” Spencer asked with a wicked smile.

“Nice boots, Barbarella,” Hotch barked with a grin. Reid shut off the lamp, and slung one leg up over Hotch’s waist. Aaron patted the high-cuffed leather footwear, and groped his husband’s butt. 

“Need a bath…” Reid whined. “Too hot to cuddle.” 

“Spencer Reid?” 

“Yes?” 

“I don’t know what kind of trashy, smutty crap you’re reading in the other room, but you don’t come sauntering into my bed wearing nothing but thigh-high boots, fuck me like the Devil is chasing you, and not let me at least have a peek.”

Reid tittered merrily. 

“Peek at what?” he feigned innocence.

“I want to see this book. Don’t make me torture you,” Hotch growled deeply. 

“Oh, mmmmm,” Reid hummed happily. “Tie me down. I’m all yours, Master.” 

“I’ll trade you,” Hotch bargained. 

“I’m listening,” Reid smiled. 

“You bring your smutty novel, and I’ll bring the spreader bar, and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle,” Hotch crooned.

“Will you wear something for me?” Reid persuaded in a baby voice, tickling and kissing under Hotch’s chin. 

“As long as it doesn’t chaff,” Aaron replied. “While I’m at it, I’ll ask you what you and Captain Spaulding are up to?” 

Reid’s voice deepened back to normal. “Nothing.” 

“Do I look stupid to you?” Aaron muttered playfully, while managing to look very stern and serious at the same time. 

“No, sir,” Reid insisted. 

“Skulking around here. Whispering among yourselves. Running over to check that post office box every day like clockwork. Plowing through local Arlington newspapers classified sections.”

“You do want me to keep you informed if I receive any contact from Ed Trovinger, right? We’re checking the box to see if he…” 

Reid didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Hotch had him up off the bed, holding him by one arm, pressed up against the far wall. 

“Spencer Reid. I want the truth,” Aaron demanded, his voice in Reid’s ear, his breath tickling the back of his neck. 

“I told you. I’m waiting for Ed Trovinger to contact me,” Reid panted. 

“Why all of a sudden are you so sure he’s going to contact you?” Hotch wanted to know. He moved up against Reid’s back, glaring at him over one shoulder. Spencer’s smile lengthened wickedly. 

“I reached out to Ed with an offer.”

“Reid? What kind of offer?” Hotch breathed.

“One of the last things he said to me was that he wanted to make amends for what he had done. If I gave him a chance, he would make amends.”

“And?” Hotch trembled. 

“I sent him a letter, and offered a list of suggested amends he could mend, as it were.” 

“You interjected yourself into a federal investigation from which you have been banned?” 

“How much progress have you and Schultz made in the last four months?” 

“You know damned well we haven’t made any progress whatsoever,” Hotch muttered, slowly letting go of Reid’s arm which he had been twisting. Spencer spun around, boots clopping on the floor. He leaned back against the wall, and toyed tenderly with Hotch’s chin. 

“Let me back on the case, Hotch. You need me. You need my help. Trovinger isn’t going to talk to you. You remind him too much of his father. But me? He might talk to me.” 

“Dr. Lind pulled you from this case for your own good.”

“If you spoke up for me, she might let me back in.”

“I happen to agree with her decision to pull you. Perhaps you’d like me to refresh your memory? A dark night, not so long ago, during which you were in the company of a deranged psychotic who was holding a gun in your face, threatening to pull the trigger? There I was, on the outside looking in, wondering which suit I was going to dress you in for your funeral. You promised me you wouldn’t put yourself in jeopardy.”

“I’ve kept my promise. I haven’t put myself in jeopardy. But you have to admit that right at this very moment, you’re asking yourself if I could be useful. If Ed might contact me, take me up on my offer. Admit it.”

“Reid.”

“Admit it!” Spencer barked. Hotch hung his head, and nodded solemnly. “Okay then. I want to help. I don’t even have to leave the house to help. You and Spaulding can go check the post office box for me. I’ll stay right here, with the blinds drawn, safe and sound, bored to tears.” 

“I’ll talk to Dr. Lind and see what she has to say about letting you work on the case again,” Hotch agreed. 

Reid bounced up and down happily for a moment before he could control himself. 

“Are you really that bored?” Hotch mused, putting both arms around Reid, nosing a kiss to his lips. 

“You have no idea,” Spencer replied sulkily. He caught his breath when Hotch picked him up again, carrying him back to bed. 

“I’m sure I can find a way to occupy you for a little while,” Aaron promised. “Do you have the key to the toy box?”


	7. Mama Bear

Interlude 7 - Mama Bear

 

“What are we watching?” Jack asked as he bounced onto the divan between Hotch and Reid, unceremoniously pushing them both to either side to make room for himself in their comfortable nest of blankets. 

“How about a nice wildlife documentary?” Reid suggested, adjusting his blanket, and thumbing the remote before setting it down on the coffee table. It was a quiet Thursday night, a few hours of peace to be cherished. Hotch hummed in reply, leafing through his work folder for the umpteenth time. He closed the file and set it aside with a huff of annoyance. Not everyone appreciated peace and quiet in the same manner. 

“Any word from Trovinger yet?” Hotch asked Reid, in a tone that conveyed his displeasure with the inactivity on the case. 

“None,” Spencer replied timidly. 

“Your gambit didn’t work?” Aaron needled. For a moment, it was almost as if he were gloating about the idea that Reid’s plan had not paid off. 

“So far, it has not worked.” 

“But you will let me know if Ed bites?” There was suspicion in Hotch’s voice. 

“You will be the first person I tell,” Reid promised. 

“Turn it up a bit,” Hotch requested, nestling in against Jack and Reid both. He reached for the remote himself, adjusting the volume. 

“ ‘The mother bear and her cubs continue their lonely trek across the frozen tundra in search of enough food to survive the Alaskan winter’.”

Hotch’s brows went up a fraction as he watched the deadly white blizzard on the screen. Nothing to see but miles and miles of ice and snow and barren wilderness, and three figures moving across it. The narrator’s voice droned on, with no show of emotion whatsoever. 

“ ‘ Days drag on without nourishment, turning into weeks, until finally, nature overpowers her mothering instinct, and her hunger drives her to do the unthinkable’.”

Suddenly the white screen was awash with bright red blood and small body parts. There were ghastly close-ups of the biggest bear’s gore-stained maw. 

“Oh!” Reid cried, fumbling up off the couch for the remote. Hotch covered Jack’s eyes with both hands. Reid whimpered, clicking from one station to another station. 

“Jack?” Hotch murmured as TV voices bounced back and forth wildly. 

“Yes, Dad,” the boy replied calmly. 

“Can we pretend that none of us ever saw that?” 

“Yes, Dad. I think I can,” the little boy assured him. “Can you let go of my head? You’re squeezing pretty tight.” 

“Sorry,” Aaron rumbled, releasing his son and patting his ruffled hair down. 

“OH MY GOD!” Reid exclaimed again.

“Spencer, turn the channel, for crying out loud,” Hotch chided, reaching for the remote. Reid snatched it back and went to the previous channel. 

“Details are sketchy at this point, but the hostage situation in Los Angeles is getting more desperate by the minute. As soon as we have a camera at the scene, we’ll be able to show you more. I’m being told we do have a camera crew on the way. What we know at this time is that an armed felon is holding his wife, his mother-in-law, and two bounty hunters at gunpoint in his home. He’s threatening to kill them all if his demands are not met before midnight. Good news! We are now able to bring you footage from the scene!”

Hotch sank back down on the couch. Reid’s mouth was hanging open, his eyes wide with horror. Small pictures of the parties involved appeared on screen, running down the side of the news broadcast. The largest portion of the screen showed a non-descript rancher house in the city, with neighbors on both sides being evacuated while gunfire tore through the air from behind. Dogs were barking wildly. A small pink bike was leaning against the fence, one flat tire, sparkling tassels hanging from the handles. 

Reid inhaled when the shaking footage showed the gunman standing in front of the bay window of the living room, holding a woman by her hair. She had her arms above her head. He was shaking her and cursing at her, before dropping the curtains back into place. 

“Dad?”

“Hush, Jack,” Hotch replied, getting up to answer his cell phone, which had begun bleating loudly from the dining table. 

“Papa?” Jack worried, touching Reid’s arm and point to the TV. “Was that Aunt JJ?” 

“Yes, it was,” Spencer trembled. 

“According to police reports, the trouble started four hours ago when the bounty hunters approached Mr. Riser’s house. He is wanted for parole violations including the sale and distribution of narcotics, the purchase of firearms, and ignoring a restraining order that his wife had sworn out against him. Armed with a warrant and a parcel of guns, the bounty hunters now find themselves being held prisoner by the very man they had hoped to apprehend,” the broadcaster continued. Reid wondered how this woman could sound so cheerful when delivering such terrible news. 

Hotch’s voice echoed from the other room. 

“Yes, ma’am. We’re on our way.”

Reid clicked off the TV, anticipating Hotch’s next words. 

“Jack, get your things. You’re going to Aunt Jessica’s. Reid, get your go-bag. We’re going to Los Angeles.”


	8. Long Distance

Interlude 8 - Long Distance

 

“If I never see Los Angeles again, it will be too soon,” Reid murmured sleepily, pausing for a yawn as Hotch opened the door and ushered him into the house. Jack raced ahead, dropped his bag in the dining room, and ran for the upstairs bathroom. 

“Like I said before, don’t take what she said personally.”

“Yeah, because I so enjoy being called….” 

“JJ has had a chip on her shoulder for a couple years now,” Hotch muttered as he stretched. “If it weren’t for me holding her back and standing in her way, she’d have been running the BAU. Hell, she’d have been running the FBI! Or at least that’s what she said in her exit interview. Maybe I should have let Mr. Riser shoot her?” 

“No….” Reid whined. 

“I probably only made matters worse by saving her life, hmm?” Hotch noted wryly. “Jack, will you please stop running?” he called out as footsteps dashed from the bathroom to the bedrooms and back to the upstairs landing. Reid was busy yawning again. 

There was a cell phone ringing somewhere in the house. Hotch patted his jacket and determined it wasn’t his own. Reid slid his satchel off his arm, dug around, and retrieved his phone. His wasn’t ringing either. The ringing was coming from inside Jack’s overnight bag. Jack’s head appeared over the railing. Seconds later, he was pounding down the steps. 

“Must be Mia,” Spencer whispered. 

“Puppy love,” Aaron sighed. 

Jack dropped himself on the ground, yanked open his bag, and started throwing dirty clothes everywhere. He finally found his phone in the bottom. 

“Hello?” Jack gasped, casting his eyes towards Hotch and Reid, who were standing side by side in the kitchen, one arm around each other’s waists, smiling nostalgically at him. Jack’s small brow furrowed in annoyance. “Hi! How are you?” Jack turned all the way around, and gave his parents a look over one shoulder which warned them against eavesdropping. 

“Hungry?” Hotch asked, swatting Reid on the butt and turning to open the fridge. 

“Meh.”

“Meh,” Hotch agreed, closing the fridge again. 

“Yes, Papa is back. Aunt JJ is going to be fine, Dad said,” Jack was explaining. “Sure. Hold on one second.” 

Jack leapt to his feet and hurried to the kitchen as Reid filled Goody’s cat food bowl, and stared around in concern, wondering where their cat was. The pet-sitter had been there every day as usual, but Goody was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s probably in the barn again. Since your surveillance crew moved into the big house with Spaulding, Goody has the run of the whole place. I’ll go find him,” Hotch offered. 

“Papa, it’s for you,” Jack said, giving Reid the cell phone. Jack followed Hotch out the back door, leaving the portal ajar. Reid went out on the back stoop as he put the phone to his ear. 

“Hello? This is Dr. Reid,” he said, wondering why Jack’s friend Mia would want to speak to him of all people. 

“Spencer! I’m so glad you’re back, safe and sound.”

Reid almost fell down the stoop. He steadied himself just in time, and sat awkwardly on the top step. 

“I can’t wait for you to tell me all about your adventure.”

Reid gulped like a fish, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. 

“M…mom?” he whispered unsurely. 

“Of course it’s me, Spencer. Who else would it be? I have to say, Jack has been worried about you both while you were gone.” 

“Mom?” Reid whispered again. 

“Darling, are you all right? You sound hoarse.” 

Reid cleared his throat and suppressed the tears that welled up. 

“I’m fine. How are you?” he asked.

“I miss you. When are you coming to visit again?”

“This weekend? I…I’ll be there,” Spencer promised, clearing his throat and gulping back emotions. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Just got back from Los Angeles.” 

“Go take a nap. I’ll see you this weekend. We can talk then. I can’t wait to hear all about your adventure.” 

Spencer whimpered anxiously, “Let’s talk now.” 

“But you’re tired, darling. I don’t want to keep you awake. What time is it back there?”

“I don’t mind. It’s been so long….” Reid paused. “It’s been so long since we’ve talked. I’ve missed you, Mom. I’ve missed your voice.”

“Spencer, we talked only last week! Why are you being so dramatic?” 

Reid sniffled and laughed. “It’s been a little longer than a week, Mom,” he insisted gently. 

“Have you read any good books lately?” Diana asked. 

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“Tell me all about them,” Mrs. Reid murmured. 

Spencer leaned back on the railing on the cement stoop, and watched Hotch and Jack wandering around the outside of the barn, calling ‘Goody?’ The door behind Reid slid open, and someone with fur brushed his arm. The feline in question rubbed around him, and made his way into Reid’s lap. He was kneading Spencer’s thin thighs, watching Hotch and Jack wander around the barn. 

“It all starts in a castle on a hill,” Reid said quietly. 

“The very best stories always do,” Diana agreed with a pleasant sigh.


	9. The Letter

Interlude 9 - The Letter

 

“We need some noise. It’s too quiet in here,” Hotch announced loudly as he came to the kitchen doorway. He was trailing a radio cord behind him as he skittered carefully across the drop cloths and past the legs of the ladder. Reid was perched in the air, glaring at him like a great, angry bird.

“Sweden!” Reid exclaimed, lowering the paint roller. A faint glimmer of amusement traced Hotch’s face before he could hide it. Reid’s glare got harder almost instantly. 

“I know, baby. I know,” Aaron commiserated. 

“You know no idea!” Reid huffed angrily as he stretched toward the ceiling once more. He whisked the roller back and forth with a lot of unnecessary roughness, tossing dots of white everywhere. A trickle of paint was rolling from the handle, slowly down the back of his hand, across the veins and soft skin. It gathered strength when he paused to speak again. “Sweden!” he sputtered, his voice dying in a helpless squeak.

“I do understand. I have been in your shoes,” Aaron promised as he plugged the beat-up old radio into the outlet furthest from where Reid was busy. He popped the top of the machine up, and slid a CD into the slot. “The parent who has custody decides where the minor child lives. You could sue Korsakova for parental custody, but that would only complicate the situation further.”

“When Haley took Jack and….”

“Yes…”

“You do understand,” Spencer decided softly, crumbling down onto his perch, dropping his long legs for a moment, letting them rest at full length. “I’m sorry I shouted at you,” he added, giving Hotch a Bambi-eyed stare. 

“That’s all right. You’re upset. You’re allowed to vent,” Hotch soothed. He touched the play button. Reid cringed, anticipating loud 80’s rock. Instead, a strange, disco beat emerged. 

“Sweden is far away, but Mouse has been miserable in Seattle, so maybe the change of scenery will do her a world of good. Korsakova loves her above all else. She would do anything to make Mouse happy. Yulia probably jumped at the chance for a new post in a different place, because she knew it would help pull Mouse out of this funk she’s been in,” Hotch continued as he stepped awkwardly across the plastic drop-cloths. 

“But I only get to see Mouse once in a while now. If she moves to Sweden, I won’t see her again until she’s twenty-five, and married, and has two kids and a dog,” Reid lamented. “That had better not be ABBA." 

“It's the Bee Gees. Don’t’ worry. I’ll teach you how to Skype. You can talk to Mouse every night if you want,” Hotch promised, reaching over to pat Reid tenderly on the nearest foot.

“Would a nice post in Philadelphia have been too much to hope for?” Reid lamented even louder. 

“I know,” Hotch soothed, shifting from foot to foot, moving around. Reid realized he might actually be dancing. 

“With Jack spending the summer with Haley’s parents?” Reid sniveled some more. “The house is so quiet. It’s too quiet. I’ll lose my mind,” he sniffed. 

“Reid, will you concentrate on what you’re doing? You’d better get cracking there. Your paint is drying on the roller,” Hotch pointed. 

“This would go faster if you’d stop dancing and help me!” Reid exclaimed, climbing back up and working desperately around the area of the ceiling above him. 

“Hey. You’re the one who wanted to paint the kitchen,” Hotch grinned at him. “When you’re done, we’ll get cleaned up. We’ll get dressed up. We’ll go out and eat. I’ll take you to a place with white table cloths, linen napkins, and a menu that doesn’t have a children’s section. That’ll cheer you up,” Hotch suggested as he let his eyes trail up and down Reid’s slender, graceful form where he was stretching away from the ladder, leaning at an awkward angle. Aaron reached out and put a firm hand on the metal frame when it threatened to topple. 

“The house feels so empty and quiet without Jack here,” Reid complained. “I can’t believe you said yes, and so quickly too.” 

“Well,” Aaron cleared his throat, ducking one of Reid’s long feet in order move around to the front of the ladder to get a better grip. “Jack was excited, and he wanted to go. I want to make Jack happy. Spending the summer with John and Mrs. Brooks is going to be an adventure for him.”

“But I wanted us to take him to the Southwest first,” Reid pouted. “Grand Canyon. Hoover Dam. Four Corners.” 

“It’s very important for Jack to spend time with his grandparents. We’ll go there with him again someday. But for now, he needs…. Hon, be careful. You’re going to fall. Let me move the ladder,” he interrupted himself. 

“Hold still,” Reid replied, putting one hand on Hotch’s head, and using him as a support to reach the last part of the ceiling. Hotch watched Reid’s stomach as his teeshirt rode up, revealing large patches of skin. Spencer even had paint on his skin under his shirt. Aaron wanted to kiss the parts he could reach, but thought better of it. Plenty of time for that later. 

“REID, I do not want to spend the evening in the emergency room,” Hotch insisted, letting go of the ladder and putting both hands up under Spencer’s extended body. 

“DOC!” someone shouted as they opened the kitchen door and burst in. Reid let out a startled shriek. He and Hotch were on the floor in a heap a second later, dripping with white paint, sprawled awkwardly over the drop cloths. Splatters were landing all around them like thick rain. Hotch was flat on his back, staring up, torn between laughter and pain. Reid was on top of him. The paint roller had made a crooked streak of white down the cabinets over the stove, and across the stove itself. The paint tray landed on Hotch’s lower leg. He started to snort with amusement, unsure if he should, and how Reid would react. 

“You okay?” James winced, almost retreating back outside. 

“Ow,” Reid mumbled softly. He sat up on his knees, and stared down in concern at Hotch. Aaron was trembling with suppressed amusement. He patted Reid’s side, and came away with a hand dripping paint. Reid couldn’t have known, but he had a huge splash up his back and over his legs. 

“You okay?” James asked again. 

“We’re okay,” Reid confirmed slowly, unsurely, squelching as he moved. 

Hotch helped Reid sit up on the floor. The young guard stood in the doorway, and fought with a big grin. They stared around at the ruined kitchen. White streaks and splatters marred the fresh, neutral tan paint which had yet to dry. Reid tucked his mouth together tight, and his brows bunched angrily above his eyes. 

“Sonofabitch,” he growled in one syllable, holding onto the paint roller. Hotch was surprised he hadn’t let go of it when they had fallen, or that he hadn’t thrown it in anger, for that matter. He carefully pried it out of Reid’s hand. 

“It was gonna need another coat or two of tan to cover the blue,” Hotch decided. 

Reid breathed, swallowing explicatives as he stared at his guard. The young man was waving an envelope in a plastic evidence bag.

“There was a letter in the post office box,” James explained. 

Reid and Hotch scrambled up in excitement, and Reid dove for the evidence bag. 

“REID!” Hotch shouted. “Stop! Don’t open that! Get in the shower!”

“But….” Spencer sputtered. 

“We have to preserve trace evidence. We’ll open the envelope at the forensics lab at work. Get in the shower,” Hotch scolded, taking away the bag. He held it up to the light, peering at it closely with one eye. “No return address.”

“Did you actually expect there to be one?” Reid laughed on his way into the downstairs bathroom off of the kitchen. Hotch stared around, wincing. 

“Go on. I got this,” James said. He reached for paper towels beside the sink, flipping on the water. 

“Thanks,” Hotch said. He was stripping as he opened the bathroom door and joined Reid in the shower, leaving the envelope in the bag on the small table.


	10. Hellos and Goodbyes

Interlude 10 - Hellos and Goodbyes

 

Reid was carrying a single cardboard box in his arms as he followed Hotch out of the elevator and into the newly-renovated BAU offices. He caught his breath and stopped, bumping into Hotch’s back because Aaron too had come to a screeching halt. 

“Whoa,” Morgan called out, hurrying out of an office. Garcia had been blundering around inside the room. She had shrieked and slammed the door. Derek stood there, smiling for a flash of a second before galloping down the ramp to intercept Hotch and Reid. 

The basic design was the same – an area down front with cubicles and desks, a ramp leading upwards to a row of offices, and a conference room with smart boards and terminals and the necessary audio-visual equipment. A look to the right showed that the senior agents’ offices were closer together. A look to the left showed that the small kitchen area had been smoothed out and fitted more tightly into the available nook, making it more stream-lined, but also allowing for a space against the other wall for the filing cabinets and such to be reorganized out of the central cubicle area. This left more personal space for those who were assigned to desks there. 

Junior agents were scurrying around to find their new spaces. Anderson grinned and fussed with his desk blotter, his pencils and coffee mugs, and decided where to put his inbox. Torg had the desk right at the curve of the entrance to the bullpen. He must have requested it – it made him more at ease to know who was coming and going and not being surprised by anyone’s appearance. 

There was an empty desk next to Torg’s. Reid assumed that must be where he had been moved. He started that direction. Hotch reached out and took hold of his jacket tail, shaking his head a tiny bit in response to Reid’s questioning look. Reid hugged his box more tightly. 

“Where’s Alex?” Reid wondered, noticing her absence, and seeing there were two empty desks facing each other close to Torg’s desk. Maybe that was where he was supposed to go? It would be nice to have Dr. Blake as a desk mate. Again Reid made to walk into the center area, but Hotch put a hand on his arm. 

“We can get settled in later,” Hotch stammered. “Dr. Lind wants us all in the conference center on the double,” he added, glancing at his watch. 

Morgan bounced down the ramp, seized Reid’s box from him, and talked in a very loud voice. 

“There you are! Traffic was light today, or what? You’re….early,” he beamed. 

“What the hell is going on?” Reid demanded bluntly, frowning back and forth between Hotch and Morgan. The two men sputtered and exchanged a meaningful look. Morgan kept Reid’s box out of his reach, and Hotch steered Reid up the ramp. 

The conference center door popped open, and Dr. Lind shouted across the area. 

“Agent Hotchner! Bring your team!”

Inside the room, SSA Schultz and members of his team were milling around, arguing case points. Agent Thomas’s voice was the loudest of them all – no surprise there. Hotch hustled Reid up the ramp, walking him past Morgan’s office and Rossi’s office. Dave bustled out of his door, nearly ran over the three of them, and paused only long enough to slap Hotch on the shoulder before heading to the conference room. 

“A lead, gentlemen! A new lead!”

“Lead?” Hotch lit up. He rushed Reid along past the next two doors without stopping. The blinds in one office rolled open. Garcia peered out, saw them, and closed the blinds again with a start. Morgan knocked on the door. She opened it. Derek shoved Reid’s box in at her. She snatched it, whispered to Morgan, and closed the door again in his face. 

“What is…why…I…” Reid babbled. Hotch pulled him into the conference center, stuck him in a chair, and whirled around to face Dr. Lind. 

The BAU section chief shoved a file folder into Hotch’s hands. 

“A lead, gentlemen. Trovinger’s car has been spotted in the Outer Banks in North Carolina.”

“Where?! When?!” Hotch exclaimed, devouring the details. Reid stood up from his chair and peered over Hotch’s big shoulder. 

“He was spotted by local law enforcement getting on the 7 a.m. ferry at Cedar Island,” Lind answered. 

“Same red Honda?” 

“Same one,” Simone confirmed. “Packed to the rafters with books.” 

“We should be there at Hatteras when he gets off,” Agent Thomas growled. “I’m tired of fucking…”

“Language,” Dr. Lind chided.

“Effing around with this effing madman,” Thomas swallowed his words under his breath. 

“I don’t need you or Agent Hotchner walking around here, constantly swearing like sailors,” Lind continued. “You will act like adults and carry yourself with appropriate comportment when you represent this Bureau.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Thomas conceded. 

“Agent Thomas is right. We should be there to apprehend Trovinger when he gets off at Hatteras,” Hotch agreed. 

“Aside from the fact that you could not conceivably be there in person when the ferry docks at its final destination, I think if we pounce on Edward Trovinger now and he manages to escape again, we’re only going to drive him back under the radar,” Dr. Lind disagreed. 

“Then what do we do? Watch him disappear?” Schultz lamented. He moved to the map posted on the board, and traced the Atlantic seaboard with one set of fingers. 

“No. We keep a tail on him at all times. A local police officer has him under surveillance on the ferry, from a distance. Once the ferry docks at Hatteras, another local LEO will take over in the new jurisdiction,” Dr. Lind insisted. “I don’t want to spook him.”

“Why are we not apprehending him?” Agent Aguilar asked from his seat, lifting his mug and waiting for Dr. Lind’s reply. Simone smiled to herself before she answered. 

“When he is in a location where he can be apprehended without jeopardizing the lives of potential hostages, we will apprehend him,” she promised. 

“Where is he headed?” Reid asked, watching Schultz touch various red marks on the map on the board. 

“That’s exactly what I want to know. We don’t know enough about him psychologically. If we follow him, and determine why he is headed in this particular direction, what he means to accomplish, I believe we will garner a better understanding of why he commits the crimes that he commits. I want to know why he’s in these locations. I want to know what significance they have for him. What is so special about Florida? The Carolinas? The water? The beaches? The bookstores?”

“Do you have his books still?” Schultz asked Reid. 

“Yes. They are in boxes at the house,” Reid replied. 

“It could be that he’s returning to bookstores where he’s been before in order to acquire new copies,” Schultz suggested. 

“It could be as simple as that, I agree,” Lind answered. “I want to divide you into two-person teams, and have you trace back along his presumed route. We know he was at Cedar Island this morning at 7 a.m. Where was he before that?”

“If he’s using cash….” Hotch remarked. 

“Money from his father’s insurance policy, we have to assume…” Reid added. 

“Though he could be working odd jobs here and there,” Hotch replied.

“I want to know where he has been and why. Knowing where he’s been might give us an idea of where he’s headed,” Lind interrupted. 

“I don’t understand why we aren’t slapping this guy in cuffs and taking him down,” Thomas protested. “How many more people does he have to kill?” 

“That’s the whole point, Agent. Since he pistol-whipped Reid and vanished out of that Georgetown bookstore, Trovinger hasn’t been involved in a single illegal incident that we know about.”

“Maybe we haven’t connected the dots,” Thomas replied. 

“Get out there and connect the dots then.” 

“He could have a whole string of storage facilities, stuffed with bodies….” Thomas muttered.

“Has there been any more activity on your card, Dr. Reid?” Dr. Lind asked.

“None,” Reid replied. 

There was a quiet knock on the door. 

“Come!” Dr. Lind shouted. She expected Torg to be there. Karl did come in, racing for a chair at the table. Another figure nervously poked her head in too. “Oh! Agent Davies! Wait right there! Be out in a second. Dr. Reid, with me, if you please.”

Reid followed Dr. Lind to the door, giving Hotch a puzzled glance. Once they reached the outside again, Dr. Lind closed the conference room door. Agent Davies lurked by the railing, file folder in hand. She was dressed very casually for a day at the office, Reid noted. Jeans and a simple blouse. Tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back into the tiniest of braids at the nape of her neck. She looked serious and nervous. Agent Davies handed the folder to Dr. Lind. 

“Davies, how was the trip to see your parents?” Reid asked happily. Dr. Lind paused, darted a look between Davies and Reid, and closed the folder again. 

“You haven't told him?” Simone murmured to April.

“I haven't yet,” April confirmed. 

“I’ll be in my office for a second,” Dr. Lind said. She couldn’t walk away fast enough, shoulders hunched, steadfastly embarrassed. 

“The trip did not go well?” Reid decided. Agent Davies snorted softly, her eyes tearing up a little. 

“I’m going to miss that,” she beamed at him.

“What?” Reid wondered. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Davies added. She cleared her throat, and stuck a hand at Reid. Spencer took it, wondering about the tentative manner in which she held his fingers. “It’s been a privilege working with you, Dr. Reid. I hope to do so again someday.” 

“Where are you going? What has happened?” Reid worried. 

“I’m transferring to the field office in Denver. Time for a change. Past time.”

“What happened? Did your parents not like Agent Peterson?” 

“No. Pete was a big hit. My mom liked him. My dad liked him. He was a big hit with the whole gang,” April replied, dodging around uncomfortably, moving her body side to side while avoiding eye contact. 

“You’re moving to Denver together?!” Reid exclaimed happily. Agent Davies sighed, stared at Reid, and bowed her head. 

“Pete and I are not going anywhere together. Ever. Again.”

“What happened? I thought…” 

“I’d rather not talk about it, Dr. Reid. I don’t want to dwell on the negative. I want to put it all behind me. That’s why I’m going to Denver. I need a fresh start, somewhere new and far away from here.” 

“Oh…” Reid frowned. 

“Dr. Reid, you take care of yourself, and you be careful with Ed. I know you want to believe that he’s a new man, and that he’s going to walk the straight and narrow until you convince him to turn himself over to the authorities. But be careful. I thought I could reason with him too, and look where that landed me -- locked in a basement for three days.”

Reid nodded in reply. 

“It only takes the smallest thing to set him off, and he can turn from pussy cat into tiger from one second to the next,” April warned. 

“I’m sorry about Todd,” Reid offered. 

Davies flinched, pulled herself up, and shook her head. 

“I’m not leaving Washington because of Ed killed Todd.” 

“I’m sorry that…” 

Davies shook her head again, cutting Reid off. 

“I’m not upset that Todd is dead. It bothers me more that I don’t feel anything. That tells me it’s time to make a change, get away from here, find myself again.”

“Moving to Denver isn’t going to make those emotions any less painful to deal with once they do hit you,” Reid warned. 

“Doc, I need a change, before one more thing happens, and I lose my mind,” April said, her voice quivering. She cleared her throat, and smiled tenderly at him. “Take care of yourself. Call me if there’s a development in the case, and you need my help. I left Ed's mother's books at your house for you. I’ll email my contact info to Dr. Lind once I’m settled. I’d hug you, but I don’t want your gorilla to storm out here and get all huffy.” 

“Hotch is not a gorilla,” Reid sniffled, giving a quick peek over one shoulder. Hotch did indeed have his face pressed to the window of the conference room. He tried to look as casual as possible, but Reid frowned at him nonetheless. Hotch sheepishly closed the blinds. When Reid turned back around, Dr. Lind was crossing the ramp, carrying the folder again. 

“Here you are, Agent Davies. Signed, sealed, and delivered. You’re renting a truck? Driving yourself?” 

“Looking forward to the adventure,” April replied, accepting the folder back. “Thank you for signing off. My supervisor wasn’t happy about my request for a transfer, but she agreed to sign off if you did. If you need me for anything having to do with Ed, you'll know where to find me.” 

“If you need a reference or a contact, you give me a call. Dr. Reid would be happy to vouch for you too, I’m sure, yes, Dr. Reid?” 

“Yes, ma’am. That goes without saying,” Spencer replied. 

“God bless,” Davies smiled. She gave Reid one last, forlorn glance before heading down the ramp towards the elevators. 

“What happened?” Reid asked Dr. Lind. Simone growled softly, and frowned at Reid.

“We’ve lost a good agent, that’s what happened.”

“I don’t understand why she’s leaving.” 

“This place is too full of bad memories, that’s why. I can understand why she would want to leave," Simone sighed. 

The elevator opened, and Agent Blair stepped out, followed by Agent Peterson. Dr. Lind winced. Reid waited, hoping for a clue. 

“Good day,” Davies said, pulling herself up to her full height and stepping past them both without a second glance. Peterson spun around, one word on his lips.

“April?!”

Agent Blair snatched his hand back from the closing doors, and tugged him in the opposite direction. 

“Oh, no, young Padawan. You need to walk away while you can still walk,” Lucy suggested. Peterson followed Agent Blair up the ramp, listening to her muttering. “You’re lucky to have both kneecaps. Walk away, Pete.”

“Blair!” Simone smiled in greeting. “Peterson,” she frowned at the young man. He ducked down, hiding his reddening face. 

“A new lead on Trovinger?” Blair confirmed. 

“He’s on a ferry from Cedar Island to Hatteras.” 

“That man has a weird thing for water, doesn’t he?” 

“Join the others. We’re about to divvy up into two-person teams and head for the airfield,” Dr. Lind invited. “Peterson, with me. I want a moment. Privately. In my office.”

“Ma’am?” Agent Peterson blushed. 

“Listen and obey, Padawan,” Agent Blair instructed. Pete followed Dr. Lind away, like a man being led to his own execution. 

“Agent Blair, tell me he didn’t,” Rossi whispered from behind Lucy and Reid as the rest of the agents milled around by the entrance to the conference room. 

“I wish I could, but no, he did. I am so ashamed,” Blair replied. 

“What happened at April’s parents’ house?” Reid fretted. 

“Pete slept with Jo,” Rossi whispered. 

“Jo? April’s sister Jo? Oh!” Reid exclaimed, filling up with indignation. “That no-good, two-timing…” 

“Yes, all that and more. But you need to mind your own business, pretend you don’t know, and concentrate on our case,” Blair suggested gently, turning him towards the conference center. 

“How could he do a thing like that?!” Reid shouted. 

“It takes two to tango,” Rossi reminded him. 

“I can’t lay all the blame on Pete either. I’d say there’s a fair bit of sibling rivalry at play here. Jo bears as much blame as Pete,” Blair remarked. 

“Dr. Lind is going to rip him a new one,” Morgan cackled softly. 

“No, she will give him very good advice,” Agent Aguilar interjected. “Motherly advice. She helped me and Marie when we were having troubles. She gives very good advice.” 

“It’s all my fault,” Reid lamented. “I so wanted Agent Davies to be happy.” 

“No, it’s not your fault,” Hotch soothed as Reid put himself down in his chair again. 

“How do you like your new digs?” Blair asked Reid, nodding hello to Schultz and Thomas. 

“I…um…” Reid puzzled. 

“Dr. Lind thought it was about time you had your own office, some personal space to call your own,” Blair smiled. Morgan and Hotch and Rossi were all frowning at Blair. Lucy shrugged her shoulders and added, “What?”

“We hadn’t actually had a chance to surprise him yet,” Hotch murmured. 

“You’ve got a couple minutes. Now is as good a time as any,” Lucy suggested. 

“Close your eyes and follow me,” Hotch said, taking Reid’s hand and tugging him along. Spencer could tell by the sound of herding footsteps that several people were trailing behind. Morgan clapped a hand on his shoulder. Hotch opened a door up ahead. 

“Not ready yet!” Garcia exclaimed, trying to close it again. 

“Ready or not!” Morgan called back. 

“Open your eyes,” Hotch whispered, heading to Reid’s other side. 

The office wasn’t a large space. It was barely ten by ten, and it was dominated by enormous bookcases stuffed to the brim. There was a delicious, old, wooden desk, not new but in terrific shape, and polished to gleaming perfection. A leather seat twice as large as Reid was parked in front of the wooden desk. His chair from the bullpen was tucked into the side desk where Garcia was fussing over the odds and ends of computer components. The coffee machine which Hotch had given Reid when he moved to Cryptology was back. It was plugged into an outlet at the far end of the room, churning and whirring as it pumped out a welcoming pot of java. The scent of cinnamon and chocolate tickled everyone’s noses. Reid’s closed cases were stacked, ready to be filed. Other cases were perched, waiting to be examined by the new case coordinator. His favorite pencils and pens and desk accessories were in place. Hotch reached over and rubbed Reid’s elbow. 

“Do you like it?” Aaron hoped. 

Reid turned to stare at the built-in shelves behind his desk. Those had been left empty, presumably for Reid to fill with his own mementos. Spencer fought with a timid smile, tentatively rubbing the arm of the big leather chair. When he pulled it out, he spotted a wrapped gift in the seat. He picked it up and fussed with it, hugging it to his chest. It felt like a picture frame. 

“I like it very much,” Spencer answered, his voice cracking. 

“I thought you could put Mouse’s tree by the window,” Hotch added, motioning to the narrow, bullet-proof sliver of light. 

“I will,” Reid agreed, thinking on the tiny bonsai tree which rested on his desk at home at the moment. It had arrived parcel post, and needed replanting, but so far, so good. 

“I’ll have your computer up and running in no time,” Garcia promised. 

“Thanks. I don’t know what to say. Thanks very much,” Reid stammered, moving behind the desk, touching a handle here, a corner there. 

“Nice,” Blair commented from the doorway. “All you need is a microwave and a year’s supply of peanut bars.” 

“Open the bottom drawer,” Morgan motioned with a laugh. Reid peered inside. The drawer was stacked top to bottom with boxes of salty, sweet snacks.

“There will be time enough later to decorate,” Hotch said, patting Reid’s shoulders and frog-marching him for the door. 

“Was this your idea?” Spencer wondered softly. He fingered the gift in his hands. There was no card, but he recognized Hotch’s singular inability to wrap presents. 

“Boss Lady’s idea,” Hotch insisted. 

“Wasn’t that one of your windows?” Reid wondered. 

“I still have plenty of windows,” Hotch smiled. “We’re next door neighbors. I can knock on the wall, and pester you any time I want. I don’t even have to get up out of my chair to bother you.” 

“Let’s move, people. We’ve got a job to do,” Dr. Lind was saying from inside the conference center. “Schultz, Thomas. I want you to start in Savannah. Rossi, Torg. Head back to Florida. Fletcher and Morgan, go to Charleston, South Carolina. Blair and Peterson will remain here to help me and Aguilar coordinate any leads you find. Hotch, Reid, I want you to head for the Outer Banks. Check in with the local law enforcement, help them where they need help. Anyone have any questions? No? Good. We tail Trovinger. See where he’s going. When he’s in a place where he can be apprehended safely without putting other people in jeopardy, we take him down. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Let’s saddle up,” Hotch echoed. 

Reid paused at the doorway as the others herded past. He was carefully removing the wrapping paper from Hotch’s gift. The picture frame was simple and classy. Reid turned it over, and an instant smile appeared on his face. 

“Do you remember?” Hotch whispered, putting his arms around Reid from behind and leveling the frame in Spencer’s hands in order to blow a cat hair off the rim. 

“My first day,” Reid nodded. 

“You were such a baby!” Blair squealed with amusement before ducking out the door around them. 

“This place was so grim and serious before you got here,” Hotch lamented. 

“The coffee machine was broken. The copy machine was broken. One of the elevators stopped on seven every trip up or down whether someone punched the button or not,” Reid was snickering. 

“I remember this like yesterday. Gideon came out of the elevator, pulling you along like a puppy on a leash. You looked so scared,” Hotch murmured. 

“You were a very intimidating bunch,” Reid replied. 

“Alvarez was putting film in the camera, getting it ready for the next case, and accidently snapped this shot of you. I thought you were going to leap out of your own skin. Garcia found it in an old case file. She has been scanning everything, digitizing it so it’s easier to search. I wanted….I…..” Hotch cleared his throat and put an arm around Reid’s waist. “We headed off to work the Blue Ridge Strangler case that same day.” 

“Yeah,” Reid nodded. “Did I really look that young once?” 

“I got news for you, pal. You still look that young,” Hotch whispered. “We’ll put it in your office on the way through. I figure we’ll fly into Raleigh-Durham, and take a car to Hatteras from there?” 

“That would seem the best course of action,” Reid agreed.


End file.
